Harry Potter BOOK 1
by harshakavali02
Summary: An alternate version of Harry Potter's journey with a few new characters and of course, who don't want divine intervention?
1. Debate among Friends

'So did the Dark Lord fall, then!' he laughed.

'Happy, are you?!' Lucius was mad. _Here I am, worrying about what would happen to me and my family and this idiot is laughing_!

'Not exactly, Lucius, you came close enough,' he sounded as if he was disappointed. 'I am revelling!' he laughed again. _Austin Guard! What happened to you?_

Lucius whipped his wand out, pointing at this idiot, 'have you gone mad?'

'I am the sanest person you'll ever meet, Malfoy! The Dark Lord was weak. If not, why would he fall? That too to a baby in a crib?' Guard asked.

_Yes, why?_ Lucius heard his own voice whisper in his head. _None knows what exactly happened_. He chose not to reply. He lowered his wand a little.

Guard smiled. 'See? At least you understand. Every other one tried to kill me for saying that out aloud. I only said what was on everyone's mind, didn't I?'

The Malfoy Manor grew dark around them. Cold wind swept through the halls. Malfoy was never more uncomfortable and uncertain. _Why should this happen to me at a time like this?_

'What will you do now, Guard?' he found himself asking.

'Let me rephrase that question: What are _you_ planning to do, Malfoy?'

_I have no better choice_. 'I . . . I plan to ask the Ministry to reconsider my situation. That the Dark Lord manipulated me and my family into helping him in his war against our world. Manipulated us by using the Imperius Cur-'

He was cut off by Guard. 'So you are going to beg them? Beg forgiveness from whom you considered filth all the time? I knew you were a man of pride but a hypocrite? O my! life is full of surprises!'

'One more word out of your filthy mouth and I am going to make sure you never open it again!' _How dare this madman talk to me like that! _

His face fell. 'And to think you had some sense . . . ' he trailed off. Lucius clenched his fist and said, 'Then what will you do? Will you tell them everything we did in the Dark Lord's name? They'll kill you and all of us!'

_He definitely lost his mind_. _If I don't finish him off here, he'll get everyone killed._

'No. Why would I do that?' he frowned. 'I'll just go meet the headmaster.'

_What?_ 'Dumbledore? Why would you meet him?' He was shocked, to say the least.

'Let's just say, he'll convince the new Minister to spare me after I spoke to him,' he said nonchalantly. Lucius lowered his wand again. 'How? Are you Dumbledore's spy?'

Guard burst out laughing. 'No, Malfoy!' he said between his laughter, 'I didn't speak to him once before! Gods, I don't even know how he looks like!' his old accent resurfaced.

Yes. Another thing that bothered him. When Guard joined their order, he claimed that he learned magic at Durmstrang but his accent isn't like one of those. It was a heavy accent. He never heard it before. It sounded odd.

'How will you convince Dumbledore?'

'Let's see: By talking. Smooth talking and truth talking,' he said. _Who is this man?_

'Time to go, Malfoy,' he said, looking outside. It was dark and clouds hid the moon and stars. Lucius was unsure of letting him go but, what can he do? Slowly, Guard faded. First he turned tranparent. He could look through him literally. Then he vanished. No usual crack he heard. No sound, as if he was a ghost.

_Stop these thoughts!_ he thought to himself and took a deep breath, thinking of how he should tell the Ministry.


	2. Hermione

She read the letter a thousand times but she couldn't believe it. Even after Professor Trivia Hectamere visited and told her she's a witch.

Her parents didn't believer either, at first. Her dad thought that it was just a prank and threw the letter out into the bin. But the owl came again, tapping their window glass with its beak, a similar envelope clutched tight. After a few incidents like this, her father decided to write back to this Hogwarts, a self proclaimed school of witchcraft and wizardry. He wrote:

_Mr Prankster,_

_This is not funny business. Please stop this or we'll have to take this to the police._

He gave it to the next owl that brought the envelope again. The next day, Hermione answered the door to a woman, about her mom's age. She wore simple black robes and a shawl. She had this look Hermione didn't like. It was like she was smiling with her mouth, pitying her with her voice and trying to kill her with her stare at the same time. She hated it and so she refused to look at her for longer than three seconds, after which she'd look at her feet.

She talked to her parents and her, telling that magic do exist. She started giving them a lecture about how magic always existed in the world and people in the past saw it for the power it was. Her father looked straight at her and asked, 'Well, you said that children with magic show signs. We didn't see any. Why?'

Professor Hectamere's expression changed to something like _Here we go again_, and said, 'She always showed them. You were blind enough not to observe closely,' her voice mocking her father.

She saw her dad's expression harden and he was about to say something when she spoke again. 'Fine, Mr Granger. Now, I will prove to you, two things: Magic exists and your daughter can wield it.'

Saying that, she looked at Hermione, her expression she didn't understand. One moment she was sitting at her mother's side and the next, she was standing in the middle of the soft woolen carpet. _How?_ It was so disorienting that she fell down, trying to regain her bearings. She saw her parents' face: shocked.

'Please, I won't harm her,' she said as her dad tried to come to help her. He sat again, and Hermione saw that he only sat on the edge, ready to run to her if something goes wrong. Professor Hectamere came to her side and gave her a hand but Hermione didn't take it. She stood by herself and walked towards her parents. She was exactly at the carpet's edge when It caught fire.

'HERMIONE!' her parents screamed, shell shocked. But to her own disbelief, she felt only slight warmth.

_I . . . I should have been burning . . ._

She turned around to see Professor Hectamere standing right at the heart of the flames, a smug smile on her face. Her clothes weren't burning either. And she was surrounded by golden light. _In those black robes and the golden halo, she looks . . . ancient . . . and powerful. _But her expression was_, Look, what I meant?_ Or so, Hermione thought.

Slowly, the halo, the fire, everything disappeared, leaving the carpet unsinged. It even felt newer to Hermione. 'Go calm your parents, my dear,' she said.

Hermione went back, sitting in between her mom and dad, still feeling the warmth of the fire that disappeared already. _Calming mom and dad? She herself needed calming._

But the Professor didn't seem to care. She opened the door and stepped out, saying, 'Tomorrow at 11 A.M sharp, my dear. I want you to be ready. We'll be shopping for your First Year at Hogwarts,' and added, 'Oh, and you both too,' waving at her parents. Hermione thought she just added it as an afterthought. 'Goodnight, everyone! And be extra careful dear. Dreams can be dangerous.'

Saying that, she closed the door. She didn't know why, but she immediately ran to the door and opened it. _She disappeared!_ One part of her mind thought awed, while the other part thought, _She's a witch. Of course she could vanish._

She clutched to the envelope with the big wax _H _seal as she fell asleep and slipped into dreams. _How can dreams be dangerous?_ was her last thought and it turned out, the Professor was right. She had a nightmare and woke up in cold sweat.


	3. Harry

Where he was, Harry didn't know. It seems that he was flying near the ceiling of a small room, dimly lit by a single tube light exactly in the middle._ I must have fallen asleep after Dudley kicked me into the closet again. Or else, how could I fly? _He could feel the wind under his wings, damp and dry. He looked down.

Under the tube light was a table. On one side sat a police officer and on the other sat a prisoner. How he could tell? Uniforms. Oh, and the handcuffs.

The officer looked almost his uncle's age. While his uncle was fat and loud, this man was lean and was a soft speaker. He asked the prisoner questions quite softly, even if the prisoner's answers annoyed him. The prisoner, on the other hand, was very tall. If he stands, the ceiling would brush his messy hair, and he replied to every question with some cryptic and irritating answer. And both of them were good looking. Harry had to give them that. The officer's sharp blue eyes and black hair contrasted with the prisoner's pure black eyes and dark hair. Harry felt that the officer can spot lies instantly and that the prisoner can insult anyone in front of everyone, all while speaking truths and all while smiling.

The officer was angry, he could guess because he asked something and the prisoner only laughed. The officer closed his eyes, as if trying to stop himself from beating that man.

'I shall repeat it only once again. If you laugh, I'll kill you here. Now, why did you do it?'

'Well, both of us know why I did what I did. What's the point in asking?' the prisoner seemed a lot calm to Harry than the officer.

The officer sighed, exasperated, and said, 'The others are very angry, you know?'

'I do know. But we did benefit from it, didn't we?'

The officer's look changed. He looked defeated. 'Fine. We both did benefit from it. But if we don't correct what we did, I am going to lose my respect and-'

But the prisoner cut him, 'Am I speaking to the clever old bastard that is my brother or an old fool?'

Suddenly, the officer smiled. _I thought he'd shoot him or something and the prisoner is his brother?_ _They look and behave so differently._

'Hmm. You are on the right track then.' His voice was different this time. It was cunning. 'But we are going to set this right. And let's benefit from it again.'

'It would be very difficult.'

'As if I don't know that,' the officer snorted.

'Then give me full power,' the prisoner said, his eyes with a mad gleam. Harry didn't understand a thing. _Who are these people? What crime did he commit? Why the officer suddenly joined him? And that too, his brother? Full power? Where am I?_

'And you'll destroy everything with it,' the officer said, eyebrow raised.

'I cleaned my own mess more than once back then, didn't I?'

'You did. And promise me you won't start the Armageddon.' _What?_

The prisoner looked clearly surprised to Harry at the officer's words, then laughed. 'So, are you letting me out?'

'Not exactly.'

Suddenly, Harry felt cold wind hitting his face from the cell's window. Water trickled through the bars. _Rain_. And then, the officer stood, and pulled out something from his back pocket. It was a small coin. He flipped it with his fingers. Harry could clearly see it even from the ceiling. _Fire and Power_. He somehow knew what the symbols on each side meant. _But what does that mean?_

He tossed it at the prisoner who, for some reason, licked his lips. 'Fine. You are free.'

The prisoner took the coin into his hand and instantly, the handcuffs fell off. He breathed deeply, as if taking strength from it. 'Good. I am off, then.'

'What will you do?'

'You already know what is on my mind,' he cooed as he passed the officer who suddenly took his hand, twisted it and the until-now-prisoner fell to the ground. _He must have been hurt. The ground is hard._

'But I can't leave you completely free. You are too crafty.' The officer said as he gripped his hand tightly. The prisoner screamed as if his hand burned at the touch. Harry felt his feathers (Yeah, he was still flying) rise and lightning struck the tall tree outside the window. He saw nothing else as he was blinded. He heard nothing else of their conversation either because of the crashing thunder.

Harry woke up with a start, and his head hit the roof of his closet, 'OUCH!' he yelped.

Still, the thunder continued. It took a moment for him to realize that it wasn't thunder but just his bully cousin jumping on the stairs, shouting, 'HARRY! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!'

How much had he wished he could punch his cousin's teeth out. He sighed.

Anyway, he pushed it out of his mind for a while as he opened the closet door slowly, only to find Dudley shove the door in his face again. It hit him and he fell on the hard bed. _I'll kill him._

He slowly stood, walked our cautiously again. Dudley was with Aunt Petunia. Harry let out a relieved sigh as he walked towards the main door.


	4. Harry 2

'YOU ARE GROUNDED!' Harry heard Uncle Vernon shout at him. He could hear nothing else. But who'd believe if he said he spoke with a snake?

Two hours ago, he have been warned by Uncle Vernon that 'If you do anything weird, you are very very dead,' in that raspy breath of his. _Now he says I am grounded. It is only slightly better than being dead, I think._ Harry mused in his mind. But didn't say that aloud though.

It started out normally, with him being bullied all the way to the zoo by Dudley. A pain of course. Normally they'd leave him with Mrs. Figg, a old woman in their street who'd bore him to death with all her cats and pictures of cats. _It's better than that. Out, enjoying for once_, he had thought when he heard Aunt Petunia saying to Uncle Vernon that Mrs. Figg fell Ill and can't take care of him. They were forced to bring him to zoo. Wierd things happened when Harry came with them. And that's why Uncle Vernon warned him. Now he somehow messed it all up.

The zoo was big, with cages full of all kinds of animals from rare rats to big lions. They saw all of them. Dudley, as stupid as he was, tried to speak to them, saying hi, sneering at them, screaming at them. Neither he nor the animals were pleased. He remained silent but the rats bit his fingers when he tried to poke at them through the cage holes, the monkeys showed their large teeth and the lions growled. Dudley didn't bother. He laughed as he ran from one cage to another, tossing him around as usual.

Then they came to the Reptile House. There were all kinds of snakes there. Harry read the names as he passed by: King Cobra, Krait, Hydrophis (some sea snake, the board beside the aquarium said), and so on. Harry then came upon a snake which seemed very bored, which wound itself to the large tree branch in the cage, head dipped down, its forked tongue in and out of its mouth lazily.

Harry stood looking at it when it lifted its head up and looked at him. Both of them looked at each other for some time when the Boa Constrictor (the board said it was from Brazil) opened its mouth. 'What are you looking at, boy? Go gawk at me and get lost, I don't care.'

Harry's jaw fell to the floor. He slowly picked it up and stuttered a weak 'What?' after confirming that none were watching him. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were at the King Cobra with Mr and Mrs Polkiss while Dudley and Piers Polkiss were busy shouting at the Baby Anaconda at the far end of the House. Other visitors didn't mind too.

The snake perked up more, its eyes fixed at him. Harry saw his own green eyes reflected in the Boa's eyes. 'You . . . You can understand me?' Harry heard the surprise in its raspy voice.

He was surprised too. Scratch that, he was shocked. How? But Harry said slowly, 'I . . . Yes. It seems I could understand you.'

'And I can understand yours! I don't know how but I can!' At least the snake sounded happy.

But Harry's head swam. _How?_ Was his only thought. Instead, he replied, 'Don't you feel all bored in there? How was Brazil?'

The snake only rapped at the bottom of the glass with its tail. Bred in captivity, the small board said. 'Oh,' Harry said.

'You don't really seem to be happy with that fat pig pushing you around isn't it?'

'I don't know why he's always like that,' Harry muttered, suppressing a chuckle at Dudley being called a 'Fat pig' by a fat snake. But he decided not to point that out to the snake. He enjoyed it. _Nobody is seeing me. Not even Dudley._ Usually, Dudley would always look forward to bully him. He turned around and saw Piers laughing at something Dudley said, both of them at the Hydrophis which was hissing at them through the aquarium glass. _Some stupid joke_.

'Oh people are always like that. Look at me. I am up here all day with you people gawking at me. All I want to be free. All _you_ want is to be free. In a way we are not different, you and I.' The snake said.

Harry just looked at the snake. _So am I pathetic than a snake?_ That's when he felt a big hand clutch his shoulder. The hand dragged him back so quickly that fell on the ground, hard. He looked up as Dudley glowered over him. 'Were you talking to the snake?' He said, his piggy eyes narrowed.

Harry just glared back at him when Piers dragged Dudley to the Boa Constrictor and soon, they were gawking at it. All he felt was anger. He didn't even get up. He just glared at them both. That's when everything went wrong. The glass suddenly vanished. The Boa uncoiled itself from the branch and slithered out of the cage, its mouth slightly brushing at Dudley's feet. He screamed and Piers screamed. Then everyone screamed and scrambled out of the snake's way. It slithered on the floor, slowly came to his side and whispered, 'Thanks. I am free. Or at least I'll be, soon. Goodbye, boy!' And slithered out of the room. And that's when everyone moved again.

The House caretaker apologized to Aunt Petunia a thousandth time as he offered her a hot cup of tea which she took, her hands trembling. Piers and Dudley gibbered and told things like 'It tried to bite me!' Or 'It tried to crush me!' While Uncle Vernon looked like he'd stab him with a knife.

After Piers and his parents went away pretty shaken, Harry found himself being screamed at, by Uncle Vernon all the way back to home. _If you__ could call a cupboard that_. Aunt Petunia only said, 'Don't come out . . . No meals . . . ' as he locked himself up in the cupboard under the stairs.

_What happened? How can I speak to a snake? How did that glass disappear? And there's that dream. He couldn't forget the officer's cunning face and the prisoner's smirk. What's happening?_

Harry fell asleep after a long time just thinking about what happened in the zoo and gazing at the ceiling.


	5. Harry 3

Hogwarts. That was the only thought. The cupboard was cramped as usual, with his small bed, a light bulb, a few broken toys and things. He heard his own heart beating harder than normal.

The morning, Dudley was jumping around the house with his new Smelting uniform. It was an awful thing by itself with maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters but it became worse with Dudley in it. And Uncle Vernon looked very proud of him. And with Aunt Petunia showering kisses on his cheek, forehead and double chin, Harry wanted to throw up all his breakfast.

That was when they heard the mail slot click along with the flop of letters on the doormat. Uncle Vernon stopped admiring Dudley and scowled at him, saying, 'Get the letters, boy.' He stood, washed his hands and his plate quickly and went to the main door. Four letters in all. He quickly scanned the addresses: one from Uncle Vernon's office, one from his sister Fat Marge (only he calls her that anyway), one was addressed to Aunt Petunia, and another . . . for . . . himself. _A letter for me?_

Harry was about to take them to the dining hall when a thought came to him: _What if Uncle Vernon doesn't let me see it? But if I open it here, Dudley can come snatch it away._ So he slowly, on his tiptoes, walked to his cupboard, opened it and hid the letter under the bed. He knew what exactly the Dursleys do if they knew there was a letter addressed to him. No letter was addressed to him. His parents died long ago when he was only a baby, in a car crash. That's when he got the scar on his forehead. A lightning shaped scar. That was when the Dursleys took him in. The envelope had only one word written on it in beautiful cursive: Hogwarts. _Later._

He then quickly ran to the dining room with all the three letters dropped at the door.

He handed them over to Uncle Vernon who said, 'Ah, Marge snt me a letter! And looks like Catherine sent one to you my dear,' giving it to her. They read their letters happily while Harry just sat there. Dudley looked at him and said, 'Why are you still here? Want another beating?' waving his clenched fist in the air.

'No but thanks for asking,' Harry said as he slowly stood. He then turned around, exiting the door and running to his cupboard. _That fat pig! _He hated the beating and everything about Dudley in general. But he hated the beating more.

He locked himself up. Then he read the letter. All of it, over and over until it fixed itself as clear as a photograph in his mind. Hogwarts. That was the only thought. The paper was odd. He didn't see that anywhere. The ink was black and the strokes sharp. _Normal pens don't write like this. Must be something . . . magical. _He read the letter yet again.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

And indeed there was a list of books with odd sounding names. _Should I really think this is a prank? They even got my address right._ Only the Dursleys knew he lived under the cupboard being the ones to put him there in the first place. He glanced once again at his address on the letter:

_Mr. H. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

A wizard. Him. utterly unbelievable but not at all impossible. He always knew there was something about himself, a feeling. _So that was magic?_ He thought, the Reptile House Incident, the Haircut Incident, the Dropping Teacup Incident and a bunch of others where everything he felt was beyond his control. Ironically, he always felt he was the one to start it or more correctly his anger towards his uncle, aunt and cousin.

He sighed and hid the letter safely under the pillow and then just stayed awake staring at his cupboard's ceiling while many thoughts crossed his mind.

Rest of the day wasn't much. He had his lunch and dinner and been in the cupboard the whole Sunday. _Who wears a uniform at home, on Sunday? Only an idiot like Dudley. And what about his mom and dad proud at him?_

_._

He didn't know when he fell asleep but the dreams came quickly. He was being beaten up by Dudley. He ran from the hall, body aching. But Dudley ran with him. That made it clear that it was just a dream. Dudley never runs. Usually his thin friends he boss over do. At school, they'd run after him and catch him while Dudley walked lazily upto him and punches him in the stomach. Harry swiftly opened the main door and ran out shutting it in Dudley's face. He heard him scream in pain. Harry couldn't help but laugh. At least in a dream, he was able to beat Dudley!

Then he turned around not to see the road but a rocky land. The land was uneven with many rocks. The rocks and the land itself was black, not like normal black stones but like the whole place was burnt badly. It must have been very long before this place was burnt down because Harry felt cold seeping into his clothes. He shivered. He couldn't see much of the landscape because of the white mist that hung in the air. Then he slowly pit a foot forward. Nothing happened. He felt like walking and walking he did. Far into the mist he walked, shivering still. He walked until he saw something. Something dark and huge. There was sound too. _Water. A big river maybe_. Not that he knew much about rivers. The only time he saw a roaring river was when the Dursleys went to camping and were forced to bring him with them. _It was a peaceful sound, keeping Dudley's shouting aside._

He neared the river. It wasn't water. It looked like milk. He suddenly wanted to taste it. Sweet milk. Cold sweet milk. Nothing else mattered. He walked on to the rocky bank and squatted. Then he looked at the milk. It flowed softly. It was almost like a tune. Like the river flowed to a musical tune. He was about to dip his hands into it when he heard a voice say, 'I would suggest not doing that.' He whirled around to see a small figure near the dark and huge thing. He slowly walked to him. The man was tall but thin and wore a long black tailcoat with buttons that shone like gold. He had messy black hair, dark eyes, a slightly uptupturned nose and a smile. Harry stood and said, 'Who are you?'

He let out a small chuckle. 'Don't worry, Harry, I won't hurt you.' He came up to him and that's when Harry noticed his polished white formal shoes. _Uncle Vernon wouldn't agree with that outfit. He'd sneer and comment about it, at least in private. After all, he hates everything that doesn't fit in with his vision of a good person._

'But who _are_ you?' Harry asked again.

'A friend, actually,' he said, smiling as he wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders. 'Now let's walk. We can talk along the way and you can ask me anything you want.' The man's smile didn't waver a bit as he led him towards the huge dark thing.

'What should I call you at least?' he asked. Harry didn't trust this stranger a bit but he walked along still.

The man chuckled. 'Call me anything you want.'

'Fine,' Harry retorted. 'Tell me, Mr Gentleman, where are you taking me?' He didn't know why, but he decided to call the man that.

He burst out laughing. 'Of all the names I have been called, this is the most decent!'

'Then what did the others call you?'

The man stopped laughing. He merely narrowed his face and smiled again, 'Again, I like this name. Don't want to ruin it by telling those.'

'Fine. At least tell me where are you dragging me to?'

'Dragging? Seriously, Harry?' he sounded genuinely surprised. 'You are walking by yourself. And, that's a cave.'

It was as if on cue: The moment Mr Gentleman said _cave, _the mist lifted off the air and Harry could see everything clearly. It was still dark but the only light was the milky river's glow. And in its glow, he saw a huge cave and he could see nothing beyond the cave except darkness. _The river's glow wasn't enough beyond the cave, I don't know_.

'Yes. You don't know anything,' Mr Gentleman said. _What? He can . . . no . . . he can't possibly . . ._

_'_Of course I can read your thoughts just fine!' he laughed. 'You are in my home after all and I'd like to know what you think about it!' as he took him inside the cave.

The cave was dimly lit with the river's glow. Harry turned to him and asked, 'What river is this? Why didn't you let me take a sip? What's this place? Who the hell _are_ you?'

'Ooh. A lot of questions. Trust me you'll find the answets before that fat pig wakes you up,' he chirped away,' he said.

_Oh. I am still in a dream. Why did I forget that?_

'Funny you talk about forgetting something in my home. Anyway, yes. You are still in a dream. You have always wondered why dreams are vivid and you remember them correctly mostly?' he said. Harry had nothing to say. He seemed to know everything about Harry.

'Not all things. Most of the things.' Harry started to hate him. But Mr Gentleman said, 'Hate me all you want but let me tell you: You are a wizard. Yes, magic do exist and I know you know that too. Since you are a wizard, you can see dreams vividly and remember them correctly,' he paused and finished, 'mostly.'

The cave and the man started spinning around him. All his past dreams came to him: about that green light and a scream, about that officer and prisoner and many dreams. 'The river is a boon to start a new life. Or a curse if you forget everyone and everything you loved. That is why I stopped you from touching it.'

The images blurred and Harry's head felt like bursting. 'The cave is, as I said, my home. And I, as you called me, am Mr Gentleman! And this won't be the last time we see each other, sorcerer!'

.

Harry's head thumped hard and he woke up in cold sweat. _This was the worst dream I ever had!_


	6. Hermione 2

Thud. Pain flared through her wrist as she realized she landed on it when she fell off the bed. What are these dreams?

They had dinner and went to bed with really talking to each other, still in shock of Professor Hectamere's visit. Hermione didn't know what to tell to them. It was all too unbelievable for her. But she decided not to put much thought to all of this considering her head would explode. So she just slept. That's when she dreamt.

She was walking on a land with many beautiful pink flowered plants. Heather, she realized. Mom's nursery had them. All she could see was that plant. The sky was stormy with only very little light touching the ground. She looked to her left and saw a huge ocean. The breeze wasn't exactly pleasant because it was cold and harsh with a hint of heather in it. She walked around the coast for a while, only to come to the same point after a while. Island.

So she decided she should walk towards the center. The heather was a lot more here. As she climbed a small ledge that led her from the coast to . . . More heather covered plain. But this time, there was something at the middle. Something dark. She climbed down the edge to that side and walking towards that thing. It seemed to take forever because it was night when she reached the centre and she could see nothing. But she heard something. Whimpering? Straining? . . . Snarling?

The wind got a lot more colder and she hugged herself in a very futile attempt to warm herself. That's when she heard the sweet voice. 'Hello there!' It was like honey poured over glass. It was that smooth.

'What are you?' She asked.

'I thought you'd ask who are you? Why did you phrase it like that?' The thing asked and she could almost hear the surprised grin on its face in the voice.

'Because you are not human. And I am not blind.' Though it was night as she came nearer, the shape wasn't human from the start. It was something grey and blue and black.

'Good. You are clever but not wise I am afraid.'

What? 'But that didn't answer my question.'

'Even the wisest make mistakes. I knew a particularly clever one long ago. But made too many mistakes. I'd love to meet him sometime just to kill him, you know,' he said. 'As for who I am, I am a victim.'

'Victim?'

'Yes. Victim of wisdom!' He spat with what she could assume was utter hate. 'Wisdom he gained unfairly. So, he locked me up here. But I want to talk to you, not blabber about my past!'

'Tell me,' she asked.

'Don't trust that woman. She is dangerous, like me. Don't trust me either. Never trust anyone. Trust, and you will be doomed, like me.' He said.

'What do you mean?' What's with this?

'You know, being muggle made you ignorant. Know that wizards and witches are not as good and forgiving as your parents. The world is filled with injustice, blood and betrayal. It's not a garden of ever happiness. And I know, there was never a garden of eternal happiness. How you people think of such stupid stories and believe in an all powerful God and that he punished you for getting knowledge? Even when the truth is dancing in front of your eyes, naked! Gods! Humans are stupid!' He ranted. More proof that he wasn't human. What are muggles? What is he trying to tell me? That the Garden of Eden and God was . . . False? She read the Bible when she was nine. She understood that reference.

'Anyway, look, there is a lot going on and you will be a part of the grand scheme if she chose you. Hmm, what will he think of this?' He more talked to himself than to her.

More riddles? 'Look, young girl, the point is, everyone has their own desires and they'd do everything to get them. Have your own desires and strive for them because if not, they will crush you into nothing. Oh, and by the way, when you meet my father, tell him I said Hi!' He snarled. And that's when she saw two glowing orbs in the darkness. Eyes. They were chillingly blue. And they glowed. Sideways they were, like a dog's eyes.

'I may be bound to these chains in reality but this is a dream. A friend of mine told me that dreams are different. That I can change what I want here. Thanks to him, we are talking now. And thanks to him . . . I shall rip your throat!' He lunged at her.

He was heavy. He pinned her down and growled, saliva dripping on to her face. She can't move. Can't even shake the beast off of her. She felt his warm breath at her. A snout. Dog? Then he pulled back, saying, 'I am not a dog, you puny mortal! I am a wolf!' And then he added, 'But there is a dog. It's like me. Bound. You wouldn't want to meet him either!'

Then he wrapped his sharp teeth around her neck and she saw no more.

She looked at the time. 3 A.M. She just lay there. No sleep. She didn't understand a thing. I have questions for you, Professor. Too many questions.

A/N: I get that you guys must be very bored of all these continous dream sequences. Please bear with me for a while, there are huge payoffs for these. Thanks for reading my book.

~ KING GYLFI


	7. Crows and Letters

Croak.

_What's that sound?_ Ron thought as he pulled up the blanket over his face. Croak. The sound was loud and that was annoying.

After counting almost twelve more croaks and squeaks, Ron was wide awake. _What the hell is that sound?_ He kicked off the blanket and rubbed his eyes. Then he opened and squinted. _Not even morning. _But the sounds continued. More than annoyed now at the prospect of sleep lost, he climbed off the bed, stretched himself and walked down the creaking old stairs to find the source of the croaking. Perched upon the kitchen windowsill was a bird. A black one. _A stupid crow? _

He turned to the clock and his anget became rage. _Three in the morning?! To Hell with you! _Ron swatted the crow away. It gave a louder croak but refused to move. 'C'mon! Move!' he hissed at it. It just stared at him and croaked again. Ron took hold of a pan and threw it at the window. It clattered too loudly in the too calm house making him cringe. _Merlin's Beard! What's with this bird?_

He just stared at it and it stared back at him. 'What's with you, eh?' Ron muttered to himself as he put the pan back into the shelf.

The crow looked at him with those black glassy eyes and flew away. Ron, for some reason, breathed free. But that's when the real trouble started.

'RONALD!' Came his mom's yell. 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THE KITCHEN AT NIGHT?!'

He was pretty sure the whole house was up now. _I'm mental!_

He just ran upstairs to his parents' room. A small room with a small bed and his snoring dad and livid mom. He mumbled apologies and told her what happened. Still angry, she said, 'Just because of a crow! Now get to bed!' and shooed him away. He just went back to his room, wondering, _What's with the crow?_

.

He can't breathe. Gasp. Water. He opened his eyes in panic, only to watch another bucket of water hitting his face and he gasped, jumped out of bed, spluttering and coughing. Fred and George just laughed. _You dare!_

'Good Morning, Ron!' both of them said cheerily as he muttered curses under his breath. _Idiots! I'll kill them!_Ron was about to race downstairs and complain to his mom but was stopped by Fred who handed over an envelope with a big H on it. _Hogwarts._ 'Now be careful Ron! You have to tolerate the whole year with us!' Fred said.

'Assuming he's in Gryffindor!' added George.

'I'll be in Gryffindor!' Ron defended himself.

'Fine!' said both. 'Now come along down for breakfast, Ron. You couldn't even imagine Mom's excitement,' and so both of them ran out of the room.

Mom's happy at his achievement. Dad promised a new wand to him while Ginny just congratulated him and as usual, with Fred and George making a ruckus. Ron sat in his room for the rest of the day, enjoying himself, thinking of all the stories he was told about Hogwarts. _Here I come!_


	8. Author's plea

Sorry I haven't updated in like forever. Being a medical student isn't an easy thing guys. No time at all. But I got my schedule figured out, so I'll try to update frequently every week.

Thanks guys for ur support


	9. Professor Wednesday

Perhaps she _should_ take her time, Hermione thought as she tried to keep up with Professor Hectamere, who was elegantly walking towards an old lowly building with a wooden sign that said: Leaky Cauldron.

It turned out to be a pub. 'You can't take her into a pub!' Her mom exclaimed but Hectamere just laughed, 'There are many ways into the world beyond your comprehension but I prefer that you know the least problematic of them,' she glanced at her and added, 'not to mention easily accessible with no immediate danger of being horribly maimed or getting killed.'

And she laughed. Hermione didn't understand a thing. But they went on through the bar.

There were men drinking, some of them reading and most of them talking in whispers. They ignored them all but Hermione caught a man looking at her. He was fat, drunk and he gave her a toothy smile and yelled, 'Hullo!'

As she turned away from him, she saw Hectamere, frozen in her tracks. She immediately turned towards the man and he gave her a toothy smile again. Hectamere turned, walked upto him and exchanged pleasantries (she assumed they were pleasantries because she changed her language.) _Her eyes. Terror. Her face. Pale. That man looked nothing like a threat to me. Perhaps they had quarrels before and she doesn't want to speak to him. But then why would she go out of her way to talk to him? Kiss his hand?_

With a very low bow, Hectamere excused herself from the man who just waved her off with a smile and she stiffly walked out of the back door and Hermione and her parents followed her. None of them understood a thing.

Hermione looked back one last time only to see that man standing up, straightening his robes, giving the bartender a few coins which the bartender took gingerly and walking out of the bar through the entry door.

She just shook her head and closed the back door and turned around only to see . . . _A brick wall?_

It was a small backyard like space with a brick wall on the other side. Hectamere clapped and said, 'Now, we are entering the wizarding world. Excited?'

Her parents only looked at her. 'Who is that man?' Hermione asked instead, clearly seeing the fear again in those eyes.

Hectamere looked at her and replied quickly, 'a past acquaintance. No worry!' And clapped her hands again. 'Now let's go!'

Hermione didn't ask more but they gathered near the brick wall. She heard Hectamere muttering, 'Many locks and many keys . . . Fire? Water? Which shall I use?' She paused for a moment and took a deep breath and snapped her fingers. The bricks dissolved into fog and scattered. 'Old charms are the best!' She exclaimed and led them into what looked to her like a very crowded street beyond. _She is beside herself. Who was that man?_

Beyond the wall was so much more than a crowded street. It was a street crowded with _wizards_ and the shops were full of magical items. And the street was long and many side alleys branched off at places. 'This is Diagon Alley! Where everything magical is available!' She paused and added, 'Uh, mostly,' and winked at her. _What does that mean? No air of command as before in the house. Again, who the man was?_

They walked through the street, gawking at everything around them. But Hectamere didn't give them time. 'You must buy many things, dear. And no time at all. I'll bring most of them but you must go get your wand by yourself. You can find them over there,' she pointed and Hermione turned in the direction to see a small shop with a high sign saying:

**_OLLIVANDER'S. BEST AT WAND MAKING SINCE 382 BC. _**

And with that, Hectamere gave her some gold coins (wizarding money?) and dragged her parents with her, them looking apprehensive but making no argument.

Hermione slowly walked towards the shop. Inside was a small reception counter with seemingly endless shelves behind. The shop was dimly lit. And there were no people in here, save for an old man sorting through boxes. 'Um, can I meet Mr Ollivander?' She asked.

The old man was startled for a moment but quickly gathered himself and the boxes he dropped. He turned to her and smiled, 'Well, I am Ollivander. How can I help you, Miss?'

'I need a wand,' she said.

He chuckled softly and said, 'I mean everyone comes here for a wand, Miss. Are you a first year?'

'Um, yes?'

'Well then. May I see your hand for a moment then?' And seeing her puzzled face, he added, 'so that it's easy for me to narrow down the type of wand for you rather than trying all seven thousand nine hundred and forty eight of them here!' He smiled again.

She stretched out her right hand. He took it with a small smile and started examining. He looked at the hand for quite a while and with an "excuse me, Miss", went to the shelves and brought out a few wands. He opened the first box and inside was a neatly carved wooden stick. 'Eleven inches. Birchwood and a unicorn's tail feather core.' She took it into her hand. It felt cold.

'How do you make these?' She asked, turning it around, trying to look at it from every angle. Ollivander said, 'The art of wand making is ancient and a guarded secret, Miss! Are you interested?'

She wasn't. She just returned the wand saying, 'It feels cold.'

'Ah. Might not be the right one.'

They tried various kinds of wands, with various kinds of woods and basically three cores: Unicorn tail feather, Dragon's heartstring and Phoenix feather. Or, that's what she understood. Then he searched the top shelves for a long time and brought out a very dusty box. 'Let's try this one,' he offered the wand, his voice rather disappointed and confused. 'Ten and three quarter inches. Vine wood and . . . Uh . . Uh . . . Ah! Dragon's heartstring! That's it!' He said. 'Why did I even forget that?' He mostly muttered to himself as he gave her the wand. 'This is one of the oldest ones here.' She took it and almost dropped it. It was searing hot and then ice cold.

Instantly, both sensations left her hands as she gripped the wand. _Comfortable. Warm_. 'It feels sort of . . . Comfortable?'

'Try to swish it, Miss.'

She did it. The shelves shook. 'Miss, please stop it. That's enough.' He said rather apprehensively. She lowered the wand and the shaking stopped. 'This wand yours, then! Miss . . . Uh . . . Miss, uh-' he was thinking. 'Granger. Hermione Granger. Sorry for not introducing myself at first, Mr Ollivander,' she apologized. She thought it was very rude of herself.

'No problem, Miss Granger! The wand chose you! It always had been like that, you see, the wand always chooses the person! And not the other way around!' He said, sounding very excited. Then he smiled again. 'It costs twelve Galleons, Miss Granger.'

Ah. She brought the gold coins. 'Are these Galleons?'

'Of course they are!' His smile didn't waver at all.

She counted twelve of them and paid him.

They exchanged "thank you"s and "have a nice day"s until she was out of the shop and promptly ran into someone.

'Careful there!' The man was tall, his hair black, sharp face and eyes pale blue.

She apologized. 'I am very sorry! I didn't mean to-' and that's when Hectamere came to her with loads of bags. 'There you are! Got your wand? Good. Let's go,' she blabbered on when the man chose to interrupt. 'Good morning, Professor!'

She looked at him and her eyes widened. _Again?_ 'You . . . What are . . . Here . . . ' she made no sense again.

But the man merely shook his head and shook Hermione's hands with his own and introduced himself, 'Name's Wednesday. Your Rune Studies professor.'

He was a professor! 'Hermione Granger, sir! I am very sorry I didn't see you as I-'

'Not a problem at all, Miss Granger. Not a problem at all.' He smiled at her and looked up at Hectamere who was frozen, like a statue. 'Nice to meet you again, Hectamere. Long time, eh?'

'Ah . . . It's . . . Why . . . ' she stammered again. More as Hermione observed, she felt more of her dread. _Why is she this afraid of people?_

'Well, Professor Bathsheda is rather indisposed and so the headmaster requested me to take up the job. Runes were always my subject of interest and so I accepted his request,' he said.

Hectamere spoke, this time, to Hermione's surprise, in full sentences, 'Of course you will be interested in runes. What else did I expect?'


End file.
